Title: Coin Operated Boy

Rating: M

Warnings: H/D SLASH

DISCLAIMER: We do not own Harry Potter! Characters (except those created by us) belong to the amazingly talented J.K. Rowling, WB, and the publishing companies. Don't sue us! We are just bored teenagers having a go at poor Harry and Draco!

A/N: This story has actually been planned out for some time but we finally finished it! I suppose because we needed some sort of distraction before Deathly Hallows. This is a one-shot! Enjoy our story and remember to review!

The alleys of London are filled with stories, each one unlike and much more interesting than what is usually encountered among the 'civilized'. Every piece of vermin that litters the alleys has an interesting story to tell (if anyone cared to ask). Most people, though, shun the idea of mingling with the destitute, with the prostitutes, and prefer to flee from them, treating them like disease-stricken people. He used to be one of the ones that would flee, one of the ones that didn't care at all for the stories he could hear, but he had learned better. There was a particular story he wanted to add to his collection.

That particular story was partially complete. He knew the beginning and middle, but he, just like a young boy, anxiously waited for the end of the story, anxiously waited for a happily ever after, although he knew better than to believe in happy endings. Instead, he had decided he would shape the ending of this story because he could, and he would.

Tonight was special. He was seeking someone that would satisfy a craving he had always had, a craving that had grown over the years and that had been satiated once before, but not to his liking. After the war had ended, and almost everything and everyone was lost, he had hoped his craving would go away, but it hadn't. He liked to be in charge, he liked to dictate, and he liked to get his way. He put down others and made them do what he wanted. It was a sport, a game to him. He relished his victories but he wanted to go for it again tonight. He wanted to win his greatest victory tonight. The craving had temporarily been over after the war, but, as he slowly built himself up again, to the original position the Malfoy's had held, the game had once again begun to be played, for his sake and sanity.

He gave a chilling smile to a scantily clothed woman with wild hair sitting atop a box, causing her to draw in a sharp breath as she watched him with wide, black rimmed eyes as he continued slowly walking down the dark, filthy alley. He heard a cacophony of sounds…sirens, shouts, moans, and the small cracking of glass beneath his feet.

He had done his research. The set up for tonight had to be perfect.

He pulled his coat closer as the wind picked up speed, and the night grew colder. He was arriving at his destination…and by this time he should have felt something. Some sort of magical pull, maybe.

There was nothing, though. Were the rumors true?

He made a sharp turn to his right and ignored the people that came up to him, all wondering if he had time to hear their stories. He had no time. Not tonight. He picked up his speed, eager to get to his destination now, eager to know and find out about this particular story he had struggled to dig up.

Suddenly, he stopped. He recognized the tall, dark man in front of him and he nodded in his direction. The dark man nodded back and pointed his long finger to his left, giving him a small smirk. Taking the man's cue, he took a left turn and walked a few feet until he came up to someone leaning against a graffiti filled brick wall. Immediately, he recognized the posture.

He stepped closer to the figure but the figure in front of him didn't move. Before he knew it, he was right in front of the other man, but there was no sign of movement from him. Almost tenderly, he extended his hand to lift the man's chin, but instantly, fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding him back.

"After all these years, you still have those quick reflexes, Potter?"

"The question is what the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow in contempt, shaking Harry's hand off of him. "What do you think I'm doing here, Potter? Do you really think I like to take strolls down this part of town, especially at this time of night, just for the pleasure of walking? Don't tell me the little intelligence you had left with your magic, too," Draco said, using this opportunity to try and figure out what exactly had happened to Harry, to see if the rumors were true.

Harry's eyes hardened slightly, which was when Draco noticed that his eyes, like all the others, were outlined in black too, making the emerald green color they had always been shine out even more. Before Draco could continue surveying Harry, though, a fist had connected with his jaw, sending him a few steps back.

Draco looked back up at Harry, lifting a hand to touch the spot Harry had just hit and wincing slightly. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Harry. "Look, Potter, I'm doing you a favor here. I know you're in need of money, just like all these other people. I'm willing to pay a rather large amount, for your story… and," Draco said, taking out a small vial with a violet, viscous liquid glowing slightly inside it, "to take this potion."

Harry's expression didn't change. The same hard expression remained on his face, his lips drawn into a thin line. His glasses were gone now, Draco noticed.

"You want to know what happened, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his voice steadily gaining volume and once again disturbing Draco from his musings. "I used up all my magic saving your arse, along with all the other fucking wizards and witches, used up my own magic to defeat Voldemort, only to receive a few congrats and then be kicked to the curb, due to my sudden lack of magic. I wasn't useful to them anymore. They didn't bother with me once I wasn't a wizard anymore. Once they were done with me, they let me go. They didn't try and help me, didn't try and find a cure or find a way to get my magic back. I had served their purpose and wasn't needed anymore."

"You didn't have to leave though," Draco said, leaning against the opposite wall, positioning himself to listen for quite a while.

Harry, though, shook his head. "I'm not going to discuss this out here. If you really want to know, follow me," Harry said, turning and beginning to walk down the alley with a curious Draco behind him. Harry suddenly stopped, though, and turned back to face him.

"Why do you want to know?" Harry asked, his eyes narrow once again, and anger and distrust apparent behind them. Draco looked at him, unsure of what to say and surprised at the sudden change in the man in front of him. He had gone from caring for everybody, from being one of the gentlest men you could ever meet, to this hard, cold man, someone who distrusted everyone. Draco wasn't sure whether he liked this new attitude, but it didn't matter. He knew what he planned would work out exactly his way. And, he was still curious as to why Potter had chosen this… unique profession.

It almost felt like Potter had created all this, had set everything up, to give him a perfect opportunity to do what he wanted to try, but he knew better. Instead, he tried to come up with a decent answer, one that would have Potter trusting in him, at least enough to have Harry tell him the story, however lacking in details it would be, and to have him take the potion he had brewed.

Draco placed the vial back in his coat pocket; Harry watched his every movement with narrowed eyes, waiting for an explanation.

"I don't know if you remember," began Draco, a sly smile starting to form on his lips, his grey eyes glinting with a hint of mischievousness, "but I certainly remember you owing me a favor."

Harry stood in front of Draco, his arms crossed and his body tense as he listened to Draco. "I don't remember you doing any bloody fucking favors for me," Harry said, his voice cold and clipped.

"I wasn't sure whether you'd remember or not. Remembering wasn't necessarily your forte," Draco said, straightening himself up and only inches away from Harry. "Let me remind you, then," he said, his grey eyes staring straight into Harry's green ones.

Harry knew what was about to happen. He acted on instinct, tried using occlumency to block his mind from any type of invasion, but found himself feeling the familiar poke in his mind; he felt the invasion he had previously worked so hard to block. 'That's right,' he thought as he stood there, allowing Draco to sift through his mind, 'without magic I can't do anything.' Harry felt like cursing, he should've known it wouldn't have worked, but habits were hard to let go of. He should have restrained Draco, should have pushed him back. Any little change in concentration would have left Harry free from Draco, but he had relied on his magic, as he had at other times -- magic which he didn't possess anymore.

Harry felt like yelling, did yell, in his mind. He tried to imagine a wall between Draco's roving mind and his own, but Draco went through them easily, ignoring them for the most part and continuing to look through his memories. Harry wasn't sure what Draco was looking for. As far as he remembered, nothing connected them together.

He started feeling weary, felt the heavy pressure of legilimency begin to overtake him, and wondered why Draco wasn't giving up. If something had occurred between them, Harry was sure he would have remembered but -- Harry suddenly staggered, spreading his arms out and holding onto the wall behind him to steady himself. His mind was now strangely empty, and nothing had happened. Curious, he let his eyes drift up to where Draco was, panting slightly and with a furrowed brow.

Draco looked up at Harry, his frown remaining in place and muttering something unintelligible, his eyes slightly wide with incredulity as well as anger. He didn't know what to make of it. Everything was going to go to ruins and because of a stupid ancient seal. Draco looked back up at Harry, wondering if he knew about it, and decided he probably didn't. Someone had obviously placed it there; he doubted Harry, even unconsciously, could have placed a seal of that level on himself. Of course, it would explain why Harry's powers had left but…. Draco's brow lowered as he thought, his eyes clouding over as several things began to fall into place, as puzzles pieces began to form and make sense, when he suddenly snapped.

Harry watched him carefully as realization seemed to dawn on Draco's face before disappearing. He found himself once again looking at mischievous grey eyes. Harry's eyes looked at him, full of suspicion, but before he could say anything, his mind was again invaded by Draco, except this time a memory was being forced into his mind. One of Draco's memories, it seemed.

Harry felt himself leave the current world, not at all sorry or scared that he was, and enter the world in which Draco's memory took place. As it began to materialize, he felt a nostalgic wave run over him, but he couldn't remember ever seeing the tent he had appeared in (now that his settings had formed) nor the two cots on the ground. He stood off to the side, his green eyes concentrated with thought as he tried to remember this. He felt it there, in the back of his mind, but it continued to slip. He concentrated harder, when a hand on his shoulder shook him from his reverie.

"Just watch," Draco whispered into his ear, his lips brushing against his earlobe. Harry scooted away from him, but did as he was told. With his hands crossed across his chest, his jet black hair in a shaggy mess, green eyes sparkling from their black rims with curiosity, and his tightly worn uniform on, Harry waited and watched.

"Fuck it all!" The tent entrance flapped and he, Harry, with features contorted into anger stormed inside.

"Potter, calm down. You're causing a scene, you know," drawled a voice right outside the tent.

"Malfoy, get the hell out of this camp! I thought I told you to leave!"

"No. You asked them to kick me out. You never told me directly…although personally, I think it should be you that's kicked out," he sniffed haughtily. "You're disturbing this peaceful place we all call a home."

Harry pointed his wand at the tent entranced and muttered a curse angrily.

"Shit! Potter, what's your problem?" yelled Draco, entering the tent.

"A friend of mine just died…what do you want me to do? Laugh?"

"I suppose you think this is your fault?" Draco stated more than asked with a roll of his eyes. "Get over it."

"Get over it?" asked Harry incredulously. "Fred just died and you want me to get over it?" he yelled, his voice growing louder by the second.

"This is war, Potter. Casualties happen. Get used to it or…."

Harry gave a dried laugh and took a step closer to Draco. "Get used to it or what? Kill Voldemort already?"

Draco remained silent.

"You're just like everyone else," Harry said, his voice dropping. "Expectations. Everyone expects the same thing from me; everyone expects me to kill Voldemort! It doesn't matter what happens to me along the way…if my friends die…I'm not supposed to feel anything because I'm saving the world. The world is waiting for me to kill him and the world is impatient. In their eyes, I'm nothing more than a machine that can kill without remorse and cater to their every whim. I'm nothing more than their weapon."

"I think you're suffering from pent up frustration, Potter."

"Oh, you think?" said Harry sarcastically. "What do you propose then? Forget about everything?"

"Kill Voldemort."

"I just…"

"No, Harry," Draco said, stepping closer and his voice holding a serious tone.

Harry looked wide-eyed at Draco and stared at him silently.

"I came to tell you, before I was cursed by you, that Voldemort has been sighted near here. The order is planning an attack…hopefully the final attack tomorrow."

They looked at each other and did not utter a word.

Harry felt a hand touch his shoulder, felt a sharp tug and then found himself inside another tent, but one marginally smaller. It was dark, and not a sound could be heard.

Harry and Draco staggered in together, Harry holding up Draco with his right arm.

"I can walk, Potter. I'm fine! You're the one that should be worried. Who knows what curse landed on you!"

"I don't feel anything so the curse must have missed me or was probably ineffective…"

"Ineffective? Potter, a curse from a death eater is anything but ineffective!"

"There's nothing wrong with me!"

"Your eyes don't seem right."

"What…"

"Potter, just…sit down and…"

"I can't sit down! Do you realize that tonight may be the night I kill Voldemort? Or that tonight he might kill me? Do you realize this? Everyone wants him dead, so what happens if I fail? Then what? No one else can kill him…"

Draco shook Harry's shoulders. "Snap out of it! If you're going to kill Voldemort then do it because you want to and because of what he did to you! Forget everyone!"

"You think this is so simple…"

"Potter…you need to relax."

"I don't how I can relax. We're in the middle of a war, Malfoy, in case you hadn't noticed," muttered Harry.

"Well you could…Potter? Potter! Wake up!"

Harry saw his eyes close before being shaken awake by Draco. He gasped as he saw his face. He looked different, but nothing seemed to have changed. He saw himself smile, and when his younger self turned around he noticed what was different -- a manic glint had appeared in his eyes.

"Potter…"

"You want me to relax?" Harry said, his smile getting wider.

"Well, yes…," Draco responded, unsure of what was going on and with a confused look in his eyes.

"I can think of a way to relax. Can you help me relax, Draco?" whispered Harry, extending a hand over Draco's shoulders and pulling him closer, all the while smiling slightly. "Will you help me relax so I can kill Voldemort?" He whispered into Draco's ear.

Draco looked at Harry, at their close proximity; his eyes darted back and forth between the door of the tent and the man in front of him. "Of course I can help you relax…how…"

Harry moved closer to Draco, and laid a hand on his cheek. He smiled, the manic glint in his eyes increasing.

"Harry…."

"Do you want us to win, Draco? If you do, then help me out tonight."

Harry stepped back in shock as he saw himself kiss Draco, slowly at first, and then with a force that seemed surreal. He saw Draco struggle, but against him it was hopeless. He felt sick and bile rose to his throat. He turned toward Draco and he hoped his face showed that he wanted to leave, but Draco shook his head and kept a tight grip on his shoulders, forcibly turning him around, his mouth forming the word 'watch'.

He saw Draco give up trying to struggle against him, and with a swish of a hand, his younger self had removed their clothes. He started to breathe rapidly and felt his hands start to sweat. He had done this countless of times, had watched other people do it too, especially in his new career. So why couldn't he watch it now? Why did he feel light-headed and guilty as he watched?

"You have to see what you did," whispered Draco. "Be a man and watch."

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, he saw every single detail of what he was doing to Draco -- every kiss, every lick, every bite, and every rub he made against the other boy. He winced every time he heard a moan, and he felt his skin burn as he saw himself roughly pushing into Draco. He seemed like a ruthless animal, like a ruthless human that didn't care about harming others. Why… how had he forgotten this?

Harry tensed up as he felt a hand lay on his shoulder. He turned around, eager to remove his eyes from what he was watching, appalled by what had occurred between Draco and him, and wondering why he didn't remember it. He looked at Draco, whose cool grey eyes were still watching everything that was occurring in the small tent. "It was the curse," Draco said. "Once I saw the glint in your eyes, I knew what it was. There wasn't a countercurse yet, so I helped you. It was the only way to get you back to normal, the only way to have you defeat Voldemort."

Harry watched him, wincing slightly as he heard their last groans, heard his own last moan as he climaxed and heard Draco's own small groan. It was barely audible, but it was there, striking something deep within Harry -- guilt and confusion and a sense of debt towards the person in front of him.

Draco took him away, had the memory fade and soon brought him back to the present, not allowing Harry to see the look on his face as he climaxed, not letting him watch the glint in his own eyes as he realized what was occurring, as he decided to take advantage of the moment and played the victim. He didn't let Harry watch after the younger Harry had climaxed and fallen into a deep sleep, as most of the people hit with the same curse usually did. He didn't let Harry watch as he picked himself up, dressed himself again, then watched Harry as he slept, a small smile on his lips full of satisfaction, happiness (that he decided to push away and ignore, deciding that it would only lead to more trouble and pain in the future), and the future plans he had in store for this moment.

Draco snapped back to the present when he heard the sound of something crack, followed by a loud yelp and a curse. His grey eyes dawned with realization and he immediately got up from his lax posture and moved towards Harry, his wand already out.

"If I knew you were going to kill yourself over it, I never would have shown you that memory," Draco muttered, muttering a few spells and healing the cuts on Harry's hand and arm.

Harry turned burning green eyes towards him, his hands shaking once healed and looking like he was ready to start punching something again. When he saw Draco though, he calmed down -- both his arms dropped to his side and his shoulders drooped. One arm went into his shaggy wild hair, his hand clutching it and tugging at it slightly as he closed his eyes, his mouth drawn tight in frustration.

He took a few deep breaths before finally opening his eyes and facing Draco, altogether missing his amused look as his eyes went straight to the ground, his mouth trying to form words of apology.

"Harry, it's been several years now. Don't try to apologize. All I want you to do is return the favor, and we'll call it even," Draco said, taking out the vial and dangling it from between two fingers. "And that includes taking this potion that I brewed just for you," Draco said in a silvery voice, the viscous violet liquid sloshing back and forth in the vial.

Harry raised his eyes to look at him, several different emotions obvious in his eyes. "But… I practically raped you, Malfoy. No, I did rape you. A simple favor isn't going to make everything okay," Harry said, shuddering as he remembered certain images from just a moment ago.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes as he had done once and stepping forward. "Potter," he said, reverting back to using surnames, "it's not like you were my first. I had loads of practice before you, so don't get yourself worked up over it. And besides, you needed a good shag. What kind of friend would I have been to deny you one?" Draco said jokingly, earning him a scathing gaze from Harry. "Fine, fine," Draco said, putting his arms up, the vial still in one hand. He pushed back his white-blonde hair out of his face, staring at Harry in front of him. "I thought you had toughened up, you know. I didn't know you were still the same emotional teenager from seven years ago, self sacrificing and blaming yourself for everything." This earned him yet another scathing glance from Harry, who looked ready to say something, but Draco decided to beat him to it.

"Besides, you weren't that bad," Draco said, a small glint of lust in his eyes that wasn't lost on Harry. He had witnessed it too many times not to be able to recognize it. "Or else, I wouldn't be paying you for that other thing your so infamous for doing," Draco continued, a small smile gracing his lips as he took another step towards Harry.

Whatever Harry had been about to say stopped at the last sentence Draco had uttered. He looked at him before scoffing slightly, his eyes shifting to the right and pulling up the leather jacket he was wearing as the breeze grew colder around them.

"Fine, this is a business after all," Harry said, apparently finally pulling himself together. "I owe you and I'll do this favor for you, for having indulged me in my time of need. You'll also be paying me for the usual," he muttered, his green eyes shining brightly as they stared at Draco, hitching Draco's breathe unknowingly.

"Right," Draco said, his voice coming out slightly odd. He cleared his throat before continuing. "You take this potion first, and then you grace me with your services for a handsome price."

Harry nodded, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing deeply before opening them again. "This way then," Harry said, jerking his head slightly to the side and beginning to walk towards a motel. Draco watched him walk before following, eyeing Harry and wondering how many others had done the same thing as he was doing now, feeling something akin to jealousy enter him as he realized the amount that must have done exactly as he was about to do.

Harry nodded at the receptionist in the front, grabbed his usual key, and then walked back out, into room 8, an unordinary room. He stuck the key into the door, heard the usual click as it was unlocked, and pushed it open. He moved aside, allowing Draco to enter the room, before closing the door behind him and locking it well. He switched on the light, allowing Draco to view one bed against one wall, a set of drawers with a TV on top on the other wall, the AC on the wall with the door on it, right below the windows, and two other doors on the last wall, obviously leading to the bathroom and the closet. It was the typical motel room, Draco decided, and he didn't want that.

He took out his wand, muttered a few spells under his breath as Harry took of his jacket and shoes, and eyed the room once more. All four walls were whitewashed and held no door. A bed stood against one wall, silky sheets covering it and larger than the one it had replaced, and a black dresser stood against the opposite wall, much newer and without the TV that had previously sat atop of it.

"Much more to my liking," Draco said, smiling as he took off his coat and set it on top of the dresser, taking off his shoes in the process and placing his wand on top of the pile as well. Harry looked around the room, an eyebrow raised, before sitting on the bed, his black clothes clashing with the white sheets. Draco's sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he brought the vial out from his slacks, opening it.

"Now Potter, keep your part of the bargain and drink this, will you?" Draco said an eager look in his eyes that Harry wasn't sure he liked.

Harry raised it into the light that seemed to come from nowhere in particular in the room, and looked at it uncomfortably. "What exactly is it supposed to do?" he asked.

Draco shrugged. "This is more of a test, really. I just want to see what it can and cannot do, although other people have tried it before you. And don't worry, you won't die or have spasms or be diagnosed with any sort of disease," Draco said as his grey eyes watched Harry's own calculating, speculative ones.

Harry looked at it one last time before shrugging. With his thin fingers, he put it to his rosy lips and drank it, making a face as he handed the vial back to Draco. "You could have at least made it taste better, Malfoy," Harry said, his eyes shut and his tongue sticking out of his mouth in a gesture that let Draco know how horrible his potion tasted.

"I'll make sure to make note of that for the next one," Draco said, his voice sounding distracted as he took the vial and set it aside, his eyes remaining glued to Harry.

Harry, after making a face, looked back up at Draco expectantly, wondering what reaction he had been expecting. He looked at Draco's eyes and noticed the hint of lust in them, although those silver eyes seemed to be clouded over with something else as well. Sighing, and deciding that it had been a complete failure and he might as well finish the job early, Harry got up and began taking off his shirt.

"Top or bottom? And you don't really have to instruct me, usually the best sex is best left to the imagination," Harry said as he dropped his shirt on the floor and turned back to Draco, who was still looking at him intently.

"Top," Draco said, "I'd prefer to be the one in control." Harry rolled his eyes at Draco's comment and sat himself on the bed as he waited for Draco.

"You're going to have to be the one to advance, if you want to be top, Malfoy," Harry muttered, raising an eyebrow and about to comment on the inexperience Draco must have when a pair of lips were suddenly pushed roughly against his own.

As quickly as they were on him, though, they were gone. A chaste kiss and Harry couldn't but help feel slightly disappointed. After all, the beginning had been promising but it had ended rather quickly, Harry thought before his hands clutched at the sheets, his mind suddenly feeling foggy, like a veil was being placed over it.

"Fucking hell, Draco, what the fuck did you give me?" Harry asked, figuring that the potion did work and that it had begun to take effect.

"It's nothing to worry about, Harry" said Draco, his slight smile widening. "Everything's going as planned."

Draco stood back and waited a few minutes for the potion to reach its full effect. He didn't want his over eagerness to ruin everything for him. Harry had to be fully submerged into the hazy state of the dream-like world the potion would induce. A dream-like world in which nothing would matter and where Harry would be at the mercy of Draco…without even knowing it. He saw that Harry's eyes were glass-like and smirked. It really had been way too easy.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Draco?" replied a different, empty Harry. The voice was hollow and lacked Harry's unique tone when he was angry, happy, or sad. The voice was just neutral, an empty shell of what it was. The potion had worked.

He walked towards Harry and sat next to him on the bed. He took Harry's chin with his hand and gently caressed it, turning Harry around to face him. "Harry, Harry, Harry… do you know what I did to you?" he whispered as he lightly kissed Harry's neck. "With this potion you only serve to pleasure me and nothing else. You are my little doll and you…" he licked Harry's ear, "are at my service."

He pushed Harry on his back and took in the sight of Harry laying in bed… just for him. This is how it should have always been, but it didn't matter. He was going to have this one night… but… would that keep him satiated?

Draco got on the bed and slowly crawled towards Harry, pushing away his thoughts and placing himself on top. His hands roamed over Harry's body as the body beneath him squirmed with desire. He lowered his head and kissed Harry slowly and gently. "You've always proven to be a challenge for me. I could have done this using imperio, but of course, it wouldn't have worked on you. You aren't normal, but that's what I like about you, Harry."

Draco suddenly kissed him fiercely, dreams of that kiss from so long ago, dreams that had been haunting him for years now, suddenly becoming a reality. He brought his head up, and Harry gave a small whimper.

"You want me to continue?" he asked, smirking.

"Yes, Draco. Please," whispered Harry, grabbing Draco's shoulders and trying to bring him back down for a kiss.

"Tsk tsk, Harry. You should patience, my little doll."

He kissed Harry again, and Harry, drank the kiss like a man filled with great thirst. "This potion is one I made just for you…it's a form of the imperio curse…but the only difference…" He felt the body beneath him thrust up, and he pressed down forcibly, eliciting a moan from Harry. "Is that a small part of you has to want it."

Draco reached for his wand, and with a flick, their clothes were removed. He threw his wand behind him without a second thought, and continued the slow process of trying to imprint every curve, every hollow, of Harry's body in his mind. He wasn't going to get this opportunity again, and so he wanted to be able to remember everything clearly.

Beneath him was what could be called his most prized possession. His own green-eyed boy that would do anything he wanted, only for him. It wouldn't be love. No. No at all. Yet, it would be something more than love, some intangible force that only he could understand what to make of. Malfoy's usually valued their possessions and would flaunt a possession, such as this, into everyone's face, but he wouldn't share the boy beneath him. Ever. If only the potion wasn't temporary…he still hadn't been able to figure out how to make it a long term potion… but he didn't want to think about these things…not now when he had an eager body beneath him.

"Draco."

"Shhh, Harry," he whispered. "It'll be all over soon."

"I don't want it to be over, Draco. Please, don't stop."

"This is what you've been reduced to, then. Begging for pleasure from Draco Malfoy. If only you could see yourself now," he said, a strange smile gracing his features.

Draco knew he couldn't contain himself much longer and without any warning he gave a deep thrust and buried himself into Harry, eliciting a gasp of pain from the man.

Draco felt memories flash before his eyes as he satisfied himself with Harry. He knew this wasn't the real Harry, knew what was happening didn't really exist. Memories of hatred and of passion, of emotions, threatened to overcome his senses but he pushed those aside and let himself descend into the dark recesses of pleasure as he suddenly smiled amid the passionate groans.

He didn't feel human. A human could not feel the desire and the surge of power he felt. He was in control over Harry Potter -- no, he was in control over a man that would do whatever he wanted -- no questions asked.

His movements sped up. "Draco…"

"Am I hurting you, love?" he asked sinisterly as he opened his eyes and looked at the flushed face of Harry.

"No, of course not, Draco," said the hollow voice of Harry, although his face showed immense pain.

"Do you want me to slow down?"

"I want what you want, Draco," whispered Harry, closing his eyes. "If it pleases you then it pleases me."

Draco smirked. "Then we'll get along famously. While you're on this potion, that is…"

He moaned as he finally climaxed, collapsing onto the bed, spent.

He lay there for a few minutes trying to slow down his breathing. Harry had fallen into a deep slumber, an effect of the potion after the deed was done. Draco had never felt so satisfied in his life, and to think it took one Harry Potter and his story. He had led Harry to believe that he had been a victim, had found a missing piece of the puzzle that cleared up quite a few things about Harry's sudden disappearing powers, and had created the one thing he had always desired.

He got up and dressed slowly, his gray eyes never leaving Harry's body out of sight. Harry would wake up and would only remember having sex but nothing else. He would not remember the effects of the potion nor would he remember ever meeting up with Draco. To Harry, it was going to be just another night, doing his usual job.

Draco waved his wand and the room returned to normal. He walked toward the door and slowly opened it.

"You served me well, my coin operated boy…," he said, turning and looking at Harry for a second before pointing his wand to the dresser. A small, gold coin appeared on top of it.

Draco gave a smirk. It changed into a sad smile, though, as he watched the man on the bed and walked out, shutting the door behind him and leaving a disheveled Harry to wake up only to a gold coin.